Month: September 2007

…. in my e-mailbox today from PostSecret.

Here is what PostSecret would like to say as a gracious loser — if gracious loserhood involved TALKIN’ DA SMACK!! — haha!:

Any follow-up? Anyone? 😉

(The Ultimate Trash Talker)
*NSYNC!!! (Justine Henin BEL)

(Or, The Monster *NSYNC as he-they-it was dubbed here.)

IN 2 QUICK SETS, *NSYNC EASILY DISPATCHED

PostSecret (Svetlana Kuznetsova RUS)

TO BECOME THE OFFICIAL WINNER OF “THE BEST THING EVER: AMERICA”!!

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

*NSYNC IS The Best Thing Ever: America.

It IS. They ARE. DEAL with it and move ON.

SOMEHOW.

Later outside the locker room, a swarm of intrepid tennis reporters waited and waited and waited for a comment from PostSecret.

PostSecret, however, had gone back into hiding ……

To our winner *NSYNC: Send me your address (addresses?), your coffee preferences (light, dark, etc.), and if you like it ground or whole bean. ‘Mmmkay??

So let’s all join in and offer our heartiest congratulations to The Best Thing Ever: America — *NSYNC!!

Or your trash-talkiest congratulations. You know. As the Spirit moves. 😉

THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR PLAYING!! I HOPE YOU HAD FUN — I KNOW I DID!!

All right. The Finals.

It all comes down to …..

*NSYNC (Justine Henin BEL)

VS

PostSecret (Svetlana Kuznetsova RUS)

So pop that popcorn. Toast that toast. Drink that sarsaparilla.

The official meal of the US Open, dontcha know.

AND THEN …… THERE WERE TWO!

(Sorry about the lateness! I had computer issues!)

Okay.

In Semifinal action today …..

PostSecret (Svetlana Kuznetsova RUS)

SIGNED, SEALED, AND DELIVERED CRUSHING DEFEAT TO

Google (Anna Chakvetadze RUS)

And on the birthdate of Google, no less!

Later in the locker room, Google, racked with cyber sobs, scribbled this card to her opponent:

ANNNND IN OTHER SEMIFINAL ACTION ….

*NSYNC (Justine Henin BEL)

NA-NA-NA-NA-NAAAAED OVER A BELEAGUERED

Gene Wilder (Venus Williams USA)

Later in the locker room, a still-sobbing Google found Gene Wilder crumpled in a corner, pale, wild-eyed, wild-haired, and listened in horror as he admitted to a long ago deed, dark and detestable: He himself had created the instrument of his defeat — The Monster *NSYNC. At this shocking confession, Google redoubled her blubs, threw in some shrieks, and became generally unstable, upsetting the balance of cyberspace. In the midst of all this emotional untidiness, The Monster *NSYNC barreled, roaring, into the locker room and Wilder yowled:

But it gets worse, MUCH worse! HE’S GOT A ROTTEN BRAIN! IT’S ROTTEN, I TELL YA! ROTTEN!

To which The Monster *NSYNC roared back: RAAAAAAAAAAAA!

And Google wisely interjected: Ixnay on the ottenray.

Silence. Then bedlam. Cameras and notepads clattered to the floor as reporters shrank from the soul-shrivelling “RAAAAAAAAAAS” of The Monster *NSYNC. Later one intrepid chick reporter dared to return for her notes. As she tiptoed toward the locker room, she heard it — the soft strains of a violin and Gene Wilder, Google, and The Monster *NSYNC crooning ………

If you’re blue and you
Don’t know where to
Go to, why don’t you
Go where fashion sits

Uuuttin’ on da Iiiiitz!

Diff’rent types
Who wear a day coat
Pants with stripes
And cutaway coat
Perfect fits

Uuuttin’ on da Iiiiitz ………….

See you on the court for the Final, peeps.

Trash-talk!!!

HA! Fooled you, did I? Thought I just declared a winner all autocratically, did you?

Nope. I’m just loving all the trash-talking in the comments of this game. Also, the Boo-Byes. Dino’s (WordGirl) Boo-Bye Speech here was particularly affecting. So hooray for Dino’s losing. And *NSYNC, Old Glory, Mark Twain, and Opportunity are just generally talkin’ smack back and forth. *NSYNC penned a patriotic new pledge of allegiance and recited it to Old Glory here. I was just so moved. Really. It was almost as good as that Oompa-Loompa song by, uhm ….. oh, yeah. ME!

Just wanted to say that all you goobers are killing me. That’s all. Continue with the trash talk.

Oh, and the tennis. Yes, the tennis.

And then there were FOUR!!

On Friday in the Semifinals, we have ….

PostSecret (Svetlana Kuznetsova RUS)

VS

Google (Anna Chakvetadze RUS)

ANNNND …..

Gene Wilder (Venus Williams USA)

VS

*NSYNC (Justine Henin BEL)

So let’s see. It’s secrets vs. searches and man vs. boys.

Seems fair to me.

Good luck and good matches, everyone!

In the latest …… supplied by Gene Wilder himself (ahem) ……

Gene Wilder (Venus Williams USA)

OOMPA-LOOMPAED OVER

The Liberty Bell (Jelena Jankovic SRB)

Later in the locker room, The Liberty Bell was treated for multiple cracks and contusions by loving, orange-faced Oompa Loompas, who comforted it with this little number:

Oompa loompa doopadee do
I’ve got another puzzle for you
Oompa loompa doopadah dee
If you are wise you’ll listen to me
What kind of bell cracks on its first ring?
A bell that’s not fit for anything
Who even made you, what is your prob?
Didn’t you see that deep-court lob?
The kind that can kill you
Oompa loompa doopadee dah
If you’re a good bell, you will go far
You will live in happiness too
Like the oompa loompa …… doopadee do!

The Liberty Bell just cried softly.

We’re whittling down to the Semifinals, peeps!! (We’re still waiting on the results of The Liberty Bell vs Gene Wilder.)

In today’s completed action ……

PostSecret (Svetlana Kuznetsova RUS)

FIRED A LETHAL SHOT STRAIGHT AT THE GUT OF

Alexander Hamilton (Agnes Szavay HUN)

Later in the locker room, a pale and bloodied Hamilton was seen playing with small colorful pieces of paper while muttering, “Well, whatevs, PostSecret. I’m on the $10 bill.” Humming a patriotic ditty to himself, Hamilton arranged his tenners into neat little rows on the locker room benches, smiling and waving at each one in turn.

But his reverie was soon to be interrupted ………. dunhdunhDUNNNH!

In action elswhere …..

Google (Anna Chakvetadze RUS)

BLUE-OXED

Paul Bunyan (Sahar Peer ISR)

Later in the locker room, Bunyan blubbered like a big ol’ baby, utterly destroying Flushing Meadows BUT simultaneously creating 10,000 more lakes, which is nice, I suppose, but not great for tennis.

As water came pouring through the locker room from Bunyan’s blubbing, Hamilton was forced to grab his money and climb atop the lockers to protect his wads of pretty 10-spots. With water rising and Bunyan’s sobbing showing no signs of abating, Hamilton narrowed his eyes at Bunyan and said in slow voice full death and taxes, “I … don’t … like you …. and …. I challenge you, sir!”

Babe the Blue Ox, disgusted with Bunyan’s unmanly display, mooed in cheery agreement. Seconds later, outside the locker room, a still-blubbing Bunyan lumbered over panicked spectators with Hamilton, now astride Babe the Blue Ox, close behind, screeching and waving his fistfuls of papery selves.

The three were last spotted somewhere near Canada, I believe.